The Currently Un-named Story
Life's Never Been A Bed Of Roses I Have My Reasons I have my reasons. The police had been following me for a long time, they couldn't pinpoint where I was staying, good thing my parents couldn't find out. They were a liability I had to rid myself of when I was still a child. No, the police hadn't found me and had no connections to find me through. Not through school, or my shady cohorts. I find it comical how the detectives scrabble over themselves because the can't find a 14 year old girl. I don't blame them, I mean, following a subhuman being through out the criminal underworld isn't the safest thing for law enforcement officials, no its not. But the surprise is that this one detective, god damn American bastard just WOULD NOT give up. I know I killed the rest of his partners, but how was I supposed to know the last one was his lover ? HOW !? Whatever, the point is that here I am, ME, hiding from a gun toting nuisance, without my regular entourage around to protect me. Not that I need it, I'm just trying to give you a good setting of what was happening. I had my desk, nice oak furnishings, a comfortable little swivel chair, book shelves, all conveniently hidden underground beneath the abandoned subways of New York. My life was set ! However, Christopher, yes I keep tabs on those watching me, trashed my home and tried to kill me. I didn't kill him though, I caught him, and I kept him as my pet. Yeah, Sure Your saying you made him into your own suicide bomber ? That's insane, your 14. Your a teenage girl with a skin problem and connections. Your also a psychopath that murdered your own parents when you were 6 years old, and you've been raised amongst New York's criminal filth. Is that about right ? Far From It Let me decipher what you just said. Number one, more or less, I convinced him how worthless he was, and how he could work to create a much better New York if he did what we all know he did. Walk into police headquarters and go boom. He did that with a van full of gasoline, not the C-4 I gave him. But if you think about it, it made a much cooler explosion. Number two, fuck you. If it was a skin condition, I'd be in the hospital. I was born with coal black skin. I blame my parents. Shitty genetics. And Number 3, I killed them because, AS I'VE STATED, they were a liability. Worthless flesh bags that knew too much. Lastly, I raised my fellows, not the other way around. They were uneducated, unguided, unknown to the world. The sewers and subways, the abandoned area's of this sunken city, have been raised because of me. I got rid of the other organized crime bins, and installed my own. See this hand ? -she raises her right hand, turning it around, her silver nails protruding like knives, before setting it back down- I removed certain people from power with this hand. Right in the gut, they screamed pretty loud. Like children watching horror films. You see sir, I may be 14 in body, but in mind, oh I am beyond even you. I have the mind of a god, the abilities of a god, the powers of a god. And I am done with this investigation. -She rises from the park bench, looking down at the detective, bleeding from every orifice on his body, especially the precision cuts from her claws in his chest- Adios, senor. And Then The Real Story Began "Class dismissed." Mr Miller waved the class off to the final bell, still staring at the board. He was supposed to teach World History, but mostly he just blabbered on and on about dumb Republican's. Mal really didn't care, she had things to do later and would rather plan for them then listen to a mid-40s pedophile drone on about politics. The rest of the class had already shuffled out of the class, Mal in the middle of the crowd, minuscule in comparison to the ugly hormonal behemoths around her. Yes, she was stuck in a human body, but she didn't feel the way they did. Easily ignoring human urges and problems was a skill of hers, albeit an unrefined one. No matter how hard she tried, some kind of problem always presented itself in her kingdom. Mal pushed through the crowd with mere thought, like always, and speed walked out of the school. The rain outside made the humans freak out, worry about their hair and make up and other pathetic musings. The rain was welcome for Mal though. "Maam, your car is here." "I know Mog, I know." Mal's Ethiopian cohort immediately appeared at his regular spot, opening the door of the black Sedan for as her small black body fit through the door. He walked around and entered into the driver's seat, and they were off.